Silence
by DatCrazyAnnieGurl
Summary: The world seemed to have stopped around him, or maybe he stopped and the world forgot about him? He wasn't sure because there was nothing but himself and silence. Rated T for language and themes


All eyes rested upon him. It was creepy and distracting all in one, but at least this was the only thing that grounded him from this, oh sick, and cruel reality. A mix of different voices were smoothing him with gentle, yet painful words of the truth, and each one of them telling him they were for him and his young children. They were… Pitying him. If it weren't to the fact that the reason they all came to him in the first place and that these _were_ close friends of his lover (or is it now ex-lover?) he would have probably laughed in their faces; wondering how is it possible to meet such idiots and kick them out without another glaze. There was no doubt he hated these people; and they hated him. Now dear reader, if **they** had their way, he would have rotten away in a jail cellar for the rest of his life, away from all of them and most certainly away from _her_ and maybe, just maybe, this horrid event wouldn't happen and they all wouldn't be standing here right now pretending to care for him and the pain he would be feeling…

They were waiting; waiting for the moment he would crack and break into tiny pieces and never be put back together again. The chubby one with long blonde hair and baby-blue bug-like eyes once heard a rumour when they were kids that when he was emotional, he would have big tantrums. She wasn't too sure if he had grown out of it or not, so she gently rested a fingerless hand onto his bony shoulder for comfort.

"Buddy? Are you okay?" Her voice, despite still somehow holding such a high-pitch after all these years, was soft and, yet, mature sounding as if she was talking to a young child instead of a thirty-three-year-old man.

Bud Smith swallowed down a lump in his throat he didn't know he had (and before you ask yourself, yes, that annoying "I-Hate-Everything" bucked-teeth emo-ish son of the famous, but incredibly stupid, Harold Smith. Honestly, he wouldn't care what you are thinking of him right this moment so why bother). His eyes scanned across to the end of the room to a staircase where three young children waited, their eyes wide with confusion and worry (plus slight annoyance from young five-year-old Andy for being pulled away from his bed by his twin sister ten minutes ago, but this is how he always is). He met his oldest daughter's eyes; the way she creased her brow made it clear inside her smart young mind she was trying to put the pieces together with what was happening, _'why were aunt Bubbles, uncle Mike, and the Sherriff here and_ where _is mommy?'_ she would possibly wonder. She is, after all, a smart kid and she'll realize sooner than you would think from an eight-year-old.

Ah, reader; I bet you are finally realizing what's going on now, aren't you? But, **who** is this poor young mother and **what** happened to her, you must be wondering, now? Well, then… Are you still interested in reading or maybe you've given up? Perhaps I won't tell you, either; but that'll be a bit of a jerkish move, don't you think?

Bud couldn't take it and focused his attention away from Maddie. He was starting to feel numb just by looking at her and the twins. He wasn't sure if it was because he saw _her_ in them or it was simply the fact that they are also her children but, _god_ damn.

Why did a fucking drunk asshole had to be driving at the same time and place she did?

Why the fuck did she choice to stay in late at work that night?

How the fuck are you supposed to tell your children that their mother, the sweet young innocent brunette-haired blue-eyed mother that they adored, is dead?

The world seemed to have stopped around him, or maybe he stopped and the world forgot about him? He wasn't sure because there was nothing but himself and silence.

"Bud?"

There it goes, just like her. Out of his grasp.

His voice must have finally cracked because he couldn't speak properly, "… What?"

Bubbles eyes soften, she was so close to crying. She gave him a weak, broken smile.

"Robin loved you _so_ much."

More silence.


End file.
